


Project: X-men - Feral vignette

by Heather



Series: Project: X-Men [3]
Category: X-Men
Genre: F/M, Frustration, Orgasm Denial, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-28
Updated: 2007-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:52:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heather/pseuds/Heather





	Project: X-men - Feral vignette

  
This is stupid, Scott thought as he feverishly clutched her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. This is dangerous and stupid and I'm going to have another coma any second now. Strangely, the thought wasn't cooling his or Rogue's ardor any.

"Oh--oh, yes," she whispered fiercely in his ear as her hand frantically fumbled with the button fly of his fatigues. His erection sprang up and she wrapped her hand around it--careful, so careful, to keep the fabric of his boxers between the skin of her palm and the skin of his cock--and pumped and pulled just expertly enough to extract a groan from his throat.

"Rogue, this isn't--this really--ahhh!" He gasped and bit his lip and groped blindly at her body, clenching his hand down hard on one of her inner thighs. Her hips arched and her knees bent and he could feel warmth and dampness through her fatigues. He pressed his hand against her and remembered the motel room and the wonderful heat of her body wrapped around his, pinned beneath him in that cool, stiff mattress, and for a reckless moment, he almost thought it'd be worth another brain hemorrhage to tumble with her like that again.

Her hand on his cock was pure ecstasy, even as every brush of her lips against his was like death. Each kiss felt like a pair of pliers squeezing his Adam's apple, and if any kiss--any brief closing of his airways--had lasted longer than a second, he might have been able to gather the resolve to pull himself away from her. As it stood, it was all he could do not to tear her shirt from her body as he bent his head and bit her nipple through the thin fabric of her P.T tank.

"Scott--" She hissed his name through her teeth as her other hand tugged at the hem of his t-shirt. "I want--I wish--"

His mouth pressed more firmly against her nipple, wetting the fabric as his hand grasped desperately at her curves. "Shhh. Please, just--" His hands moved together, grabbing her waist hard and pressing her into the wall. Her hips ground futilely against his while her hand kept up its frenzied work between their bodies.

"I--" She started to say, her voice sounding choked and eager, as if she wanted him badly enough to cry.

Suddenly, reality came crashing down around them as a voice just outside the motor pool called out, "Scott!"

Scott swore under his breath. It was Sergeant Rogers. Rogue echoed the swear while Scott pulled back from her body, rapidly putting all of his buttons back into place.

"Summers! You there?"

"Yeah, I'm--yeah!" Scott called back as he ran a hand back through his hair. Rogue's hand reached over and caught him by his belt, the only safe part of him within reach.

"Later." She breathed. "Promise."

"Summers!" The Sergeant repeated in annoyance.

"I've got to go." Scott hissed at her.

"Later, Scott. Later tonight, please--promise me." Rogue choked out in a hoarse whisper.

"I-I promise." Scott whispered.

"Later." She said again.

"Later tonight." He confirmed, stepping away from her to go see what their CO wanted, even as he thought to himself, Later _what?_ There wasn't anything more he could give her.


End file.
